The Predicament
by Johanna C
Summary: Harry is in a little predicament. And the only way out seems to be a coward's death.


Disclaimer: All characters and places belong to JK Rowling, WB and the various publishing houses. I do not own any intellectual property related to Harry Potter. I do not make any money from this piece of fanfiction.

The Predicament

The only recourse that was open to him seemed to be a coward's death. He did not know what other path could save him from the disastrous situation he had inexplicably landed himself in. He had somehow been transported into a very dangerous predicament. His mind reeled as it tried to comprehend the enormity of the situation and the correspondingly alarming solution. As if responding to the turmoil hidden behind them, his eyes voluntarily darted around the cavernous room, searching for and finding nothing that presented itself as a handy solution. On the contrary, the images that bombarded his mind - courtesy of his traitorous appendages – only caused him more grief.

He stood there, his heart pounding in his ears, hands clenching and unclenching sporadically. Paling slightly at first, the furious beating of his heart caused him to flush heavily, his pale skin taking on a reddish glow in the harsh morning sun. The cool air rushing all around him did nothing to ease the redness that seemed to be scorching him from the inside. The tips of his fingers and toes were glowing red, his heart deciding that these extremities really, really needed the extra blood flow.

His initial and instinctive defiant, offensive stance folded in on itself, making him seem smaller and more vulnerable, exactly how he felt at that very moment. He felt as if he were faced with a blood-thirsty horde of enemies that were trained to pounce on every weakness he was foolish enough to show. More than a hundred pair of eyes stared hungrily at him. They seemed to be sizing him up. If the rapturous expressions they wore were any indication, they found him a tasty morsel. A battle-hardened warrior, he should have been used to this kind of attention, but there was something about this particular group that made him feel like a little child.

He stood alone in the middle of a large congregation, him the odd one out in a sea of people clad in black. Anxiously, his eyes darted around again, independently searching for an escape route, but this time, they landed on a sight that froze his blood cold. There, behind him, the leaders of this gathering of people. He had left his defenseless back open to attack. He had showed his posterior to his enemies. Any soldier knows that leaving your back unguarded was a very, very bad idea. And these people were ruthless.

It seemed his heart finally grasped the seriousness and utter desperation of the situation, and had allowed all blood to drain drastically away from his countenance. Pale, and now trembling, he noticed the evil smirk that was leveled at him from a decidedly unwelcome source. His arms were protectively wrapped around himself, his hands desperately fluttering over sensitive areas. The smirk only widened and he was made aware of an even more sinister expression being centered on him by the undisputed head of the assembly. The twinkle that shone from those eyes was aimed at his prone form. And despite all his valor and courage, he felt his stomach plummet and his mind swim in consternation. His situation had deteriorated to a point he had not thought possible when he had first been dumped unceremoniously into it. It had not been his intention, but here he was, vulnerable and exposed in the midst of unwelcome, greedy eyes.

This dawning realization of the true horror that he found himself in led him to reaffirm that the only way out of this calamity was the very thing he swore never to do. A coward's death was not in his style, but it was the only solution. He had to throw himself off a very high tower.

Hesitatingly moving towards the doors that led to the salvation of his pride, and his soul, he decided last parting words were in order.

"I think I'll go throw myself off the Astronomy Tower now."

With that, a very naked, embarrassed and mortified Professor Harry Potter, defeater of Voldemort, ran out of the Great Hall to the amusement (and for some, disappointment) of his students and his fellow colleagues. And to think this had all started out with just a harmless wish to get to breakfast on time.

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Author's Note: This was actually the very first fanfic I ever wrote, quite a while back. It's not very good, and I think it can be improved a lot, so if anyone has any ideas and suggestions, or you might want to beta for me grins, please share them. :) Aiming to improve my writing here...Thanks for reading :)


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